Chapter 3: Put On Your Anxious Face
Phedra scowled up at the sky and shuffled her feet. This day, the first of September, was supposed to be the most incredible day of her entire life thus far. It simply wasn’t allowed to rain on her first day of Hogwarts; she had announced this only yesterday. Apparently the sky had not paid the slightest bit of attention to her, seeing as rain was pouring down in sheets and turning the gutters of the house into her family’s own personal Niagara Falls. Phedra was confined to the front porch as she impatiently waited for her father to bring her trunk out to the car.
As it were, not only was the sky not cooperating, but Maeve absolutely refused to accept that her older sister was more-or-less moving out for most of the next seven years (an incredible stretch of time from almost any perspective, especially that of someone whose entire lifespan so far has been seven years). At the moment, Maeve was sitting on the opposite end of the porch from Phedra. While Phedra was bouncing on the balls of her feet and drumming her freshly-painted fingernails on the not-so-freshly-painted porch railing, the usually bubbly Maeve was sitting sullenly in a wicker rocking chair, her toes not quite reaching the cement below.
Phedra adjusted her skirt and craned her neck to see through the front window of the house. There was her father, heading for the door. He was effortlessly pulling along her brand-new (and very heavy) brown trunk, upon which he had paid extra to have her name, P. A. Bagley, stamped in brass upon one end. Phedra ran to help him. She was rather proud of her new trunk - it was far more interesting than a suitcase - and wanted it to have as little rain-exposure as possible.
Phedra pulled open the door for her father and then grabbed the other end of the trunk so it wouldn’t drag on the rain-drenched ground. Together, they barely made it out to their old brown car before Phedra’s arms gave out on her. Mark opened the boot of the car and attempted to stuff Phedra’s trunk inside. It didn’t quite work, and Mark ended up having to tie the back down with some rope from the garage, muttering crossly to himself as he tied slippery knots in the still-pouring rain. Susan hovered nearby, looking anxious - an expression that she had rarely removed since the family’s day at Diagon Alley over a month ago.
***
To be specific, this anxious look was originally expressed by Susan Bagley when she first laid eyes on the Leaky Cauldron in London. About a week after he first appeared at the Bagley home, Martin Magoon showed up again, this time wearing gauchos with his sweater vest and puffy shirt. He was there to escort Phedra and her family on their first trip to buy school supplies, something which Phedra couldn’t be more excited about. Mr. Magoon treated the trip with a benign air, although it was clear that she was most likely the fifth or sixth child he had to take shopping this summer. Most of the Bagleys were prepared for a good time.
Maeve had flat-out refused to come along, her persistent protests becoming some of the first words she had voluntarily spoken since the extreme outburst she issued the first time that Mr. Magoon had visited. When Mark and Susan had agreed to send Phedra to Hogwarts, Maeve had run screaming into the living room, insisting that Hogwarts couldn’t exist and that Phedra couldn’t go there without her anyway. Since then she had sulked more-or-less constantly and even avoided playing with her neighbourhood friends. Her refusal to go to Diagon Alley was not unexpected.
Unable to talk sense into their youngest child, Mark and Susan grudgingly called up the Wilbert family who lived down the street. After it was all decided that Maeve would stay with the Wilberts and their daughter Karen for the day, the rest of the Bagley family were whisked out the door by Mr. Magoon.
They drove into London.
“I’ll sit in the front seat, if you don’t mind,” Martin Magoon said, trying to open the appropriate car door. “I get a little sick when I sit in the back.”
No one argued. Even if they hadn’t been threatened with the thought of a strange wizard vomiting in the back of their car, Phedra’s parents wouldn’t have said anything. The atmosphere was tense. Susan was worried about Maeve. Phedra was simply upset that Maeve was raining on her parade. It took about thirty minutes to find the correct street, with quite a few traffic jams, a packed car park, and a broken pedestrian crossing adding to the strained environment. Magoon walked purposefully at a brisk pace down the street with the rest of the party struggling to keep up, and then stopped so suddenly that Mark, Susan, and Phedra all bumped into each other.
“Here we are, my friends!” Magoon gestured professionally at a decrypt little building crammed between a Gap and a restaurant, “The Leaky Cauldron, a famous place in the wizarding world! Now if you could just follow me…”
Phedra was confused. Such a famous place should consider cleaning up once in a while. Mark and Susan looked confused as well, but not for quite the same reason.
“Er…excuse me, Mr. Magoon? I don’t see any leaking cauldrons of any sort,” Susan said hesitantly. Phedra looked around at her.
“He means that building, Mom, it says ‘The Leaky Cauldron’ on it.”
“What building?” Susan looked around, still puzzled. Mark followed suit. Phedra was now a little worried and a bit angry as well. As decrepit as the Leaky Cauldron might be, it wasn’t impossible to spot. Especially if one was standing right in front of it, which they definitely were.
“That building right-’’
“Ah, don’t worry about it, please,” Magoon cut in, “please, Mr. Bagley, Mrs. Bagley. ‘The Leaky Cauldron’ is the name of a pub. Look for it between that clothing store and the restaurant.”
They did. Susan gave a little jump.
“Oh! I swear that wasn’t there before!” she insisted. Then the aforementioned anxious look came over her. “This is the famous place we drove downtown for? I thought we were buying school supplies! Mr. Magoon, exactly what is going on here?” She sounded more confused than angry, running a hand through her dark hair and massaging her temples. Mark put his hand on her shoulder. Phedra looked up at Magoon. She was beginning to feel anxious herself. Magoon simply gave Susan a kindly pat on the back and guided the family into the pub.
It was dark and smoky inside. Phedra, who had been hoping that the place would be nicer on the inside than it looked on the outside, squinted around for a few minutes and was sorely disappointed. A glance at her father, who hadn’t said much the duration of the trip, confirmed that he had been thinking the same thing. Magoon led them straight through the pub, weaving around mismatched tables and chairs until the group emerged into an equally dingy courtyard.
“Miss Bagley, if you could pay close attention. This will be your job the next time you and your parents visit here.” Magoon pulled a long strip of mahogany-coloured wood out of his pocket. Phedra gasped.
“Is that a magical wand?”
Magoon smiled and nodded benevolently down at her.
“Yes, it is. Now if you could please pay attention to what I do with this wand.”
He showed her an odd-looking brick in the wall of the courtyard.
“Now I count three bricks up and two across. Tap the brick three times, and here we go,” said Magoon. The brick that he had tapped began to wiggle. A tiny hole appeared and grew larger and larger until there was a lovely large archway in the brick wall. Through it was a beautiful, bustling cobbled street. Magoon walked right through, Phedra at his heels.
The rest of the shopping trip passed in a blur of excitement. Phedra really couldn’t remember much afterwards, something that she was rather disappointed about. However, her anxious feeling from the pub was replaced with one of excitement nearly immediately upon seeing that wonderful street. Everything about it just felt right. And although Mark and (especially) Susan walked through Diagon Alley with perplexed expressions, Phedra’s jaw was aching from all the smiling she did. After shopping was over, Magoon handed her an envelope, saying that it contained a train ticket and written instructions. As Phedra and her parents headed back towards the car with her parents she looked back to wave, but Magoon had vanished.
***
Sitting in the car next to Maeve (who was determinedly staring out the window at the rain), riding to King’s Cross Station, Phedra reached inside her pocket. There was her wand. Ten-and-a-half inches of rowan wood with a unicorn-hair core. She was going to Hogwarts, and she was going to be happy. Phedra sighed, blowing off some of the tension she had been feeling on the front porch. The pouring rain trickled off and stopped. A ray of sunlight broke through the heavy cloud cover.